


One Short Day

by Songbirdsmile



Category: Ten Inch Hero, Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: Crossover, F/M, First Meetings, Flying Monkeys, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:20:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27343432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Songbirdsmile/pseuds/Songbirdsmile
Summary: While indulging in a solo night at the theater, Veronica stumbles into new romantic possibilities.Set sometime in 2009.
Relationships: Veronica Mars/Boaz Priestly
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	One Short Day

**Author's Note:**

> Cheers to COVID, I guess, for giving me the free time to finally make a solid attempt at completing NaNoWriMo (in Rebel mode, since I have a ton of short story concepts to experiment with and a lack of the research enthusiasm needed for my historical novel concept). 50,000 words, here I come. Day 1 down, and I am proud to have my first completed story! It's a one-shot for now, but I have a few ideas to carry it further, if interest and muses align.
> 
> Longtime fanfic reader, but new to writing/sharing/posting. Please let me know if there's something I should fix, and I'll do my best. Thanks for reading!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars, Ten Inch Hero, or Wicked.
> 
> Italics = Veronica's inner monologue

_Z… Y… X… W…_ Veronica strolled towards Row K, paying little attention to her surroundings as she hummed along to the pre-show mix. The previous tour through the Bay Area sold out so quickly that she could never get tickets, and she was buzzing with excitement to finally be here. Having lucked out with a seat near the aisle, she had timed her arrival at the theater close to curtain. No sense moving in and out or being climbed over by strangers any more than necessary.

Just past Row N, following a sudden flash of magenta tulle, Veronica smacked face-first into a soft wall of ruffles and hairsprayed curls.

_One benefit of being pint-sized: accidental human collisions don’t usually equal skull-cracking._

She jolted backwards, only to collide with a second, more solid wall and be caught mid-tumble. Strong hands remained a steadying presence under her elbows while she apologized to the annoyed, fluffy roadblock

When she twisted to thank her spotter, her gaze met only smooth, dark fabric, and she tilted further back to discover the most unique combination of beautiful eyes and bizarre hair that she had ever seen together on one head.

 _Is that purple?_ She wondered if the short spikes of his mohawk were reflecting the theater’s chandelier lighting in some strange way.

Words tangled on her tongue as she tried to thank him, flustered by the warmth radiating from his hands. Then, he grinned.

Some mesmerized staring later, her brain caught up. “Nice reflexes, Barker. Thanks for the rescue.”

His eyes lit with delight, and he responded with a soft, “Anytime, Blondie.”

They lingered a moment longer before being nudged along by those impatiently waiting to reach seats. With a sharp inhale and darting eyes, her head cleared, and she stepped away from his gentle grip. Running fingers through her tousled hair helped to settle the flutters in her stomach, and after giving him a quick smile, she turned to follow the crowd down the aisle.

Sinking into her seat, she took a few calming breaths and shook off her embarrassment. _Wow, does he pack a punch!_ An unexpected, intriguing, and surprisingly welcome punch.

She hadn’t allowed herself time for romance since transferring to Stanford last year, too caught up in leaving behind all things Neptune and refocusing her energy on Pre-Law studies. Truth be told, no one even registered as worth the distraction.

In the subtlest way possible, of course, she began a casual scan of the audience and the theater’s elaborate decorations until their eyes connected over her right shoulder. He was only a few rows away. A blush rose to her cheeks as she gave him a friendly nod and turned back to the stage. If she happened to fan herself with the program while leafing through cast bios, who would notice? The house lights blinked, and she settled in for the overture, trying to put the guy out of her mind. She really did want to see this show.

*****

By intermission, Veronica couldn't stand it any longer, she had to look again. With tactical intent, she turned to start a conversation with her neighbor, a lovely older gentleman out for a night on the town with his eleven-year-old granddaughter.

The girl was practically bouncing out of her seat with excitement. Apparently, she had every word of every song memorized and just loved the actress playing the second lead. Veronica could empathize; she had been nearly as enthusiastic - _in a completely respectable, calm, and totally non-fangirl way_ \- before her human pinball moment. The girls gushed over the performances and costumes for a few minutes, delighting the grandfather, as he had far less to say on the subject.

Out of the corner of her eye, Veronica noticed the guy looking her way again. As her little neighbor expounded on the amazingness of the heartthrob lead actor, she slowly shifted her gaze to the side. When their eyes locked, he threw another brain-dazzling grin her way, this time adding a raised eyebrow and a quick nod towards the lobby. After a moment, she responded with her own nod and turned back. She gently interrupted the girl’s monologue, announcing that M&Ms were vital to her weathering the second act plot twists, and offered to spare the grandfather the concessions chaos if they’d like anything. With requests for water and skittles, she made her way to the lobby.

Being so short may be wonderful when you want to disappear into a crowd, but it certainly made locating someone much more difficult. Luckily, her mystery man had no such issue, and his extra foot of height allowed her to spot his unique hairstyle by the concessions line after only a minute. _Yep, those really are purple spikes. Well, deep burgundy, really._

Eager to make the most of the remaining intermission time, she wove quickly through the other patrons, taking her place in line and waving him over before she could come up with anything brilliant to say.

“Hi, there.” _Wow, Veronica. Really?_

Fortunately, he didn’t pay any attention to her lame intro. “Hi! You enjoying the show? Keeping your eyes up from the floor?”

With a relieved inward sigh, she relaxed into the familiar give and take of teasing banter. “Why, yes, I believe the award-winning music, costumes, and scenery have managed to draw my attention from the stale popcorn and ticket stubs. You liking it?”

“Oh, yeah. More and more. Somebody got me a ticket for my birthday, so I figured I’d better check it out. Never really heard of it before last week.”

“When was your birthday?”

“Tonight, actually,” he replied, tucking his hands into his pockets with a shrug and giving a look that managed to be both sheepish and cocky. At the same time, he wasn’t giving off any manipulative vibes. He seemed adorably earnest.

 _Down, girl._ “Happy birthday!! Got someone here celebrating with you?” _Please, no.  
_

“Nah, I decided to catch this one on my own. Well, actually, I had someone coming with me, but they had to back out at the last minute. Sandwich shop emergency.”

“Seriously?” she said with a small snort. “Did they run out of bread?”

“Avocados. Something about meeting the supplier for a late-night delivery.”

“Oh, my god! Really? And for that they skip out on your birthday?”

“Well, you can’t make the Sunday special avocado toast bar without avocados.”

“That is true.”

The line shifted, and Veronica stepped up to place her order at the counter, turning to quirk an eyebrow at him. “What’s your concessions craving?”

“M&Ms.” 

She paid for and gathered up her snacks, and then passed him a box. “Here. A little birthday treat.”

“Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”

“If you can’t enjoy some chocolate on your birthday while watching monkeys fly across a stage, what is the world coming to?”

They moved away from the counter and found a gap in the crowd near the entry.

“So, since you’d never heard of it, what are you thinking of the show?”

“You know, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Broadway’s not my typical scene, but it’s pretty great. A fun twist on the story. Wacky costumes. Knockout voices.”

“I know, right. It’s the third time I’ve seen it. I caught the first time when my dad and I visited New York a few years ago. Then in L.A. When I heard it was swinging through town again, I asked around, but none of my friends could get away to come with me, so I just decided to come on my own.”

“An expert, then!” He paused for a bit before offering, “If you’re here alone tonight, too, I happen to have an empty seat in my name, and I could use an interpreter for some of these scenes. What do you think?”

She thought about it for a moment and weighed her options. He really was adorable and easy to talk to, and he seemed pretty nice so far. _Moratorium on romance be damned._

“Okay, I’d be glad to. Let me just run these snacks to my neighbors. Lead the way, birthday boy!”

Veronica trailed in his wake down the aisle, pleased to not have to dodge and weave her way through, taking the opportunity to admire the fit of his distressed, gray jeans and plain black long-sleeved shirt. A classic style, pushed towards edgy with an extra dose of metal on his ears, wrists, and belt and some appealing tattoos popping out from under the fabric. Not to mention the hair.

She caught herself before drool became a problem or she could suffer the indignity of a second absent-minded collision as they approached their row. Moving smoothly around him with a smile and a hand on his arm, she quickly delivered the snacks, made her excuses, grabbed her jacket, and headed back to where he was waiting. They shimmied and apologized their way down the row to settle in for the second half.

“I’m Veronica, by the way. Veronica Mars,” she offered as she arranged her jacket on the seat.

He politely shook her hand. “Priestly.”

“Cool name! First or last?”

“Only.”

“Ah. Like Prince.”

“Yes! Thank you for not saying Cher. I get that all the time,” he sighed and collapsed into his seat.

She giggled as she sat down. “Are you thinking of heading the symbol route?”

“Not until absolutely necessary. But I’ve got a few in mind.”

“That’s smart. Just keep them secret, so no one steals your best ones before you can copyright.”

“Noted. Good plan,” he said with a chuckle.

The orchestra started back up, and the lights dimmed once more. Veronica was feeling surprisingly at ease until one thought popped into her head.

“This avocado concierge. A girlfriend, perhaps?”

“Nope. Just a good friend who’s dating someone else with a hatred of flying monkeys.”

“Okay, great.” She leaned back and popped an M&M in her mouth. _This evening keeps getting better and better._

*****

After the show let out, Veronica and Priestly decided to walk up the street to a cozy local pub. The atmosphere was friendly, and not many of the theater crowd had ventured that direction, so it stayed a bit more low-key. They claimed a high-top table and the dart board as they ordered food and continued their conversation.

It all flowed so easily. They discussed what Priestly thought of the show. They compared taste in music, movies, and conspiracy theories. She talked about school, photography, and some of her investigative past, sticking to the ‘helping Dad and using the high school bathroom as my office’ details while leaving out the murders, gangs, and personal trials. He talked about skateboarding, exploring his love of cooking, and his found family at the Beach City Grill. She even convinced him to explain the stories behind some of his visible tattoos and piercings. Overall, they kept it light and fun, and neither was in a hurry to leave.

Around midnight, Veronica finally caved to responsibility. Moving to rest her hand lightly over his on the table, she said, “Well, this girl better hit the road. I’ve got a ten-page paper due Tuesday, and I’m only half-finished. And you have a longer drive than I do.”

Priestly’s eyes flashed with disappointment as he looked away and rubbed his free hand nervously across the back of his neck. “I’ve actually got a room in town. Was part of the Friends Birthday Weekend Getaway plan before the avocado catastrophe. Had the early shift today, and I’ve got the day off tomorrow.”

“Oh,” she whispered, looking down at the table and biting her lip. _So tempting. Bad idea._

After a brief awkward silence, he flipped his hand under hers, grabbed hold, and stood. “Come on, Veronica. I’ll walk you back to your car,” he said with a genuine smile.

*****

They strolled hand-in-hand in a comfortable silence for most of the trip to the parking garage. As they reached her car, she paused to have a quick inner battle.

 _Just go for it, Veronica. He’s great._ “Can I borrow your phone?”

He handed it over with a mild look of concern and leaned against her car as she entered her number. A bright smile transformed his face when her phone chimed in her pocket and she looked up into his eyes.

Stepping closer, she reached towards him, but carefully slipped the phone back into his front pocket before taking his hand again. “I had fun tonight, Priestly.”

His free hand came up to tuck a curl behind her ear and rest along her cheek. Then, it slid behind her neck to gently bring her closer for a hug.

“Me, too,” he murmured and dropped a kiss on top of her head. “I’m really glad you ran into me.”

She barked out a laugh and pulled back far enough to look up at him. “Call me.”

The captivating grin made one more appearance as he said, “Will do, Blondie,” and stepped away, his eyes following her as she hopped in and started the car.

Once she was settled for the drive, she rolled down the window and looked back up to say, “If you’ll be passing Stanford on your way back to Santa Cruz tomorrow, I’ll probably need a study break by late afternoon.” They shared a warm smile before she reversed out of the space and drove away.

*****

As Veronica was getting ready for bed an hour later, her phone chimed the arrival of a message.

\- Thanks for making my birthday special! -

She indulged in a melodramatic sigh as she stared at the phone, her mind drifting back over the pleasant evening.

\- My pleasure, birthday boy. Goodnight, Priestly. -

\- Sweet dreams, Blondie. -


End file.
